


Seemed Like a Fair Trade

by Impala_Chick



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst with a Happy Ending, Badass Brad Colbert, Demon Deals, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Protectiveness, Soul Selling, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28120941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/pseuds/Impala_Chick
Summary: Haunted by close calls in Afghanistan, Nate sells his soul to a demon in exchange for his platoon's safety. When the demon comes to collect Nate's debt, Brad takes action.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Nate Fick
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43
Collections: Heavy Artillery Holiday Exchange 2020





	Seemed Like a Fair Trade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paintstroke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintstroke/gifts).



Nate sits alone in his officer’s quarters with his dinner going cold in front of him. He doesn’t really feel like eating, not when his mind keeps supplying horrible scenarios of all the things that could go wrong once they get boots on the ground. He’s memorized the latest briefings, he’s had the BBC on nonstop, and he’s checked in with Gunny and his Team Leader three times already that day. There’s nothing left to be done. 

He hates this part, the waiting just before a deployment. His body feels tense and anxious, and he just wants to _go_. Instead of stewing, he puts on his tennis shoes and goes for a walk. 

There’s an eerie sort of silence that has descended over the base. There’s not a soul around. Maybe everyone is out getting drunk, chasing tail, spending their last night in California on something fun and frivolous. But Nate can’t bring himself to do that, not when the lives of so many men are about to depend on his choices.

Nate is thankful for the team he’s got under him. If he ever had the chance to choose someone to roll through some shit with, Gunny Wynn would be first on his list. He comes off calm and level-headed, and he knows everyone in the whole platoon pretty well. 

And Nate couldn’t have asked for a better team leader. Colbert’s reputation precedes him, and Nate has every indication that it is well-deserved. The man is smart as a whip, and not afraid to voice his opinions. He’s got the kind of presence that demands respect. He’s also cool and aloof, like he’ll only let in people that he really trusts.

Nate hopes he can earn that trust. 

He shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his khakis, and thinks about how difficult things were in Afghanistan. There were way too many close calls and near misses. He’s heard Iraq is going to be much worse. In his line of work, there’s no room for error. He has to ensure this time around goes flawlessly. He has to ensure that each and every man makes it home.

Just as he’s passing the last of the bright yellow barracks buildings on base, a man materializes on the concrete path just in front of him.

Nate narrows his eyes and carefully tries to ascertain whether he’d hallucinated him.

“I assure you, I’m real,” the man says with an air of authority. He’s wearing tailored slacks and a white nondescript button-up shirt, open at the collar. He’s got piercing blue eyes, a short-cropped military haircut, and he’s several inches taller than Nate. 

“Where did you come from?” Nate asks, suspicious. The man has given no indication that he’s a threat, but generally humans don’t try to assure people that they are “real.” Nate’s heard rumors about supernatural entities roaming the base, but it never occurred to him that those rumors might be real until this very moment.

“That doesn’t matter. But I think I can help you,” the man says. He takes a step closer, and Nate bristles.

“Tell me who you are,” Nate demands, keeping his voice steady. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as alarm bells start going off in his head.

The man raises an eyebrow. “I’ll give you a hint.”

He blinks, and then when he opens his eyes again, his pupils are both black. 

Black eyes are considered to be a sure sign of a demon in some circles. His Grandma used to tell him scary tales of demons stealing souls, but Nate had always figured she was just trying to scare him. Now, though, Nate thinks she might have been right. Adrenaline courses through Nate’s veins, but he holds his ground. He has the fleeting thought that he probably won’t be able to beat a _demon_ at hand to hand combat. “What do you want?”

“Oh, it’s not about what I want, Nate. It’s about what _you_ want. I might be just the demon to help.” The thing puts a hand on his hip and stares at Nate with an enticing smile. Nate’s demon guess had been right, then.

Nate knows he should turn around right now and walk away. Absolutely nothing good can come from a chance encounter with a demon. His grandma always warned him about keeping his fears close to his heart, where no evil spirit can get them. Clearly he’s failed at that.

But he’s not ready to walk away, not until he understands his options.

“So, what? You just walk around military bases, trying to get scared guys to sell their souls?” Nate presses. 

The demon crosses one arm under his elbow so that he can tap a finger against his lips. “I don’t like the insinuation that I’m doing something dirty. I merely provide a… service. Military bases do tend to harbor a lot of people who could use my help, though.” The demon laughs a little, and the sound is chilling. 

Nate can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he can hear his grandmother’s voice angrily chastising him in the back of his mind, but he has to know.

“What would it cost me?” Nate asks softly. 

“Hmm. For you? You’re cute. I could give you a discount.” The demon walks forward and circles Nate, whistling when he’s behind him.

“For all of my guys to come home safe. Tell me what that would cost,” Nate grits out.

“That’s all you’re asking for?” The demon comes back around to lock eyes with Nate. “No lover that you want to remain faithful to you? No bestselling novel after this is all over?”

“I could just walk away right now,” Nate threatens. And he means to make good on that threat if the demon is just going to jerk him around. He turns, but the demon steps right in front of him again.

“Okay, okay. Normally, the deal is you’ll die in 10 years. But I’ll take your soul, instead. You can keep on living, but I get your soul when you get back.” The demon reaches out to play with the collar of Nate’s shirt.

He’s not sure if people without souls can feel anything. But surely something as all-consuming as love requires a soul. Nate knows that he’s only been really in love once. A guy from his high school, named Tucker. It had been complicated and messy and it had hurt like hell when Tucker had walked away. That had been a soul-sucking experience.

Feelings really hadn’t been particularly valuable to Nate’s Marine Corps life so far. And refusing the demon’s offer would mean giving up the chance to save all of his men. 

Right then, his soul seems like a fair trade.

“Fine,” Nate says. He can barely believe his own ears. But once the word is out, it feels right. This is one thing he can control. And the price isn’t impossibly steep. 

The demon smiles wide, so that all of his teeth show. “Excellent choice. I’ll be back to collect, six months from now. And your boys will all return safe.”

The demon tugs Nate forward by his collar until they are nearly nose to nose.

“What are you doing?” Nate breathes. He’s not afraid, not anymore. He’s filled with clarity after having made a decision. But this part feels completely unnecessary.

“Deals are sealed with a kiss,” the demon says. 

The demon must notice the way Nate widens his eyes in confusion, but he doesn’t loosen his grip on Nate’s shirt. 

The demon tuts at him. “Come now, Nate. I can read you like a book. I appeared in the most desirable form I could. I know you want to. Now, are we doing this or not?” 

The demon smiles, and Nate gulps. For some reason, the whole encounter feels even more dangerous to him now that the demon knows his sexuality. Nate could get Court-martialed if he was found out.

Best to get this part over with as quickly as possible, then.

Nate closes the gap and presses his closed mouth to the demon’s. The demon holds onto his collar and slides his tongue along Nate’s bottom lip. It’s been a long time since Nate’s been kissed like that. 

He tells himself he shouldn't be indulging, but instead of ending it, he waits for the demon to pull away. 

“Well, it’s been lovely,” the demon croons as he takes a step back. “I’ll be seeing you.” 

The demon smiles and waves before he disappears right before Nate’s eyes. 

“Fuck,” Nate mumbles. He looks down at his hands to find them shaking. His heart is beating wildly in his chest and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm himself.

He can’t let himself second-guess his decision now. What’s done is done. His entire platoon, they’re all safe. They will all be coming back.

He walks back to his room and focuses on that thought. He’s glad he could do that for them, because each and every one of them deserves that kind of protection. He falls asleep easily that night.

\---

In Iraq, Nate has a million things to focus on at once. He’s got missions and reports and an entire platoon of men he needs to care for. He’s got Iraqis to kill and Iraqis to protect. Sometimes he completely forgets about the deal. But on other days, when the sun is beating down on him and he’s got too much down time, it’s all he can think about.

Through it all, there’s Brad. Nate hadn’t imagined he’d grow quite so fond in such a short amount of time, but he doesn’t even try to reign in his feelings.

Brad is steadfast and resolute 100 percent of the time. Brad’s like a compass, always pointing Nate in the right direction. But he’s got a heart, too. And that’s what really gets to Nate. 

Nate sees Brad devastated by each mistake that Bravo makes, even though none of them are Brad’s fault. Brad clearly wants the Marine Corps to be a force for good, even though he would never say it that way. It’s clear in the tense line of his shoulders, in the way he respects the citizens they come across, in the way he’s angry for all of the innocent people that are forced to pay the ultimate price.

It surprises Nate, how much Brad surprises him.

A thrill goes up his spine every time he sees Brad walking towards him with his impossibly long legs. Brad might not even be aware of the exact effect he has on Nate, but they do have something of an unspoken understanding. Nate supposes he did earn Brad’s trust at least.

Nate tries to memorize the way his stomach swoops when Brad directs his smile at him. He lets the back of his hand bump Brad’s when he walks next to him, just to feel the warmth of his skin. Nate wants to be around him as much as he can just so he can soak up every possible moment with him, every smile, every glance. Even the anger. He wants to feel Brad’s anger, too. 

After all, this is the last time he’ll fall in love.

\---

When they all make it back stateside, Nate signs his discharge papers. He tells the platoon that he’s getting out after he submits them. He promptly buys study books for the GRE and starts shopping around for graduate schools.

He can start a new life, no problem. 

After seeing so many other Marines make terrible mistakes, he’s not convinced anymore that a soulless Marine is a good Marine. So he makes sure to set his discharge in motion before the demon deadline is upon him.

It also works out because he won’t have to accidentally run into Brad again in the Corps. He won’t wonder what he missed out on, or worry about how he makes Brad feel. 

Or, it's possible that Nate won’t feel anything at all once the debt is paid. 

When he'd fallen for Brad, he'd remembered how love made him feel soft and vulnerable. The depth of his emotions also gave him strength on tougher days, and propelled him to do better, and be better. Love wasn't the weakness he'd always assumed it to be.

He hadn’t really asked the demon any of the specifics of being soulless, because he’d rather not know. And that’s still true now. He also hadn't asked his grandma about it, because he knew she'd be disappointed in him. Not knowing will make the transition easier. But he supposes that being soulless might make him less of a person and more of an empty shell. He can't even picture what that kind of life will be like. 

Nate looks around at his cluttered desk, stacked with unopened mail he still needs to sort through. His armoire hangs open with his dress blues hanging inside, along with random things like his golf clubs and his running shoes. He still needs to move all of his stuff out of his office, but he dreads the task. Once his office is empty, there will be nothing tying him to the Marine Corps except his old uniform. He sighs, trying to psych himself up to start packing.

There’s a gentle knock on the door, and Nate looks up from where he’s sitting at his desk. He figures the demon wouldn’t bother knocking, but he wasn’t expecting anyone else.

Brad pokes his head around the door.

“Sir, you have a minute?”

“For you, Brad, always.” Nate cringes at his choice of words, but he shrugs it off. Surely today of all days he can forgive himself for being too honest. 

Brad steps the rest of the way into the room. He’s got his operational dress uniform on, and his cover is in his hands.

Nate looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, not entirely sure what to expect. Then Brad smiles, and it’s devastating. Nate stares at him, trying to memorize the curve of his mouth.

For a moment, he almost regrets his deal. But then if he hadn’t done it, he can’t be sure Brad would have survived. 

“I heard you were getting out.” Brad crosses his arms over his chest and leans up against the door frame. The low light from the setting San Diego sun provides a dramatic backlight, and Brad looks impossibly tall from where Nate’s sitting. 

“I am. I only have a few more days left.” Nate stands up and steps out from behind the desk.

Brad gives him an assessing look as his gaze rakes up Nate’s body. “Since it’s official, I wanted to say two things. First, I know the Marine Corps can survive without you, Sir. But it’s still their loss.”

Before Brad continues, he pushes off the wall and takes a step towards Nate. He uncrosses his arms and lets one corner of his mouth lift up in a smile. It immediately reminds Nate of a late night conversation regarding latrines, when Brad was pressed up next to him against the hood of a humvee. It seems like that was ages ago, now. 

“And second, would you want to grab a drink with me?”

Nate blinks a few times while he processes. He can recognize a come-on when he hears one, but he hadn’t expected Brad to be such a smooth motherfucker. A whole world of possibilities rolls out in front of Nate like a red carpet. He can see himself dating Brad, _fucking_ Brad, living with Brad, settling down with Brad. 

His gut clenches and he closes his eyes for a second, savoring the possibility of a future he’ll never have for as long as possible.

Nate opens his eyes again, ready to confess to Brad just how much he’s about to change, but he’s interrupted. 

The demon appears in the room, in the exact same body he was in the first time Nate saw him.

“Brad, you have to go,” Nate says heavily, without looking at him.

The demon curls his lip in a weird facsimile of a smile before he leers at Nate. “I dunno, Nate. He’s pretty. You should let him stick around.”

“Leave him out of his.” Nate glares daggers and he clenches his fists against his sides. “Just take what you came for.”

“Oh, I won’t do anything to Brad,” The demon teases. “It’s a shame _you_ haven’t done anything to him, though.”

“Shut up,” Nate commands, fighting to keep his voice steady.

The demon blinks his eyes, and when he opens them again, they’re black. “Fine. Let’s get this show on the -”

It all happens in an instant. Brad brings a golf club down against the demon’s shoulder. It makes a loud thwack sound and the demon’s skin starts to sizzle. Nate looks over at Brad, who drops the club and reaches for Nate’s letter opener. He picks it up off the desk and stabs the demon in the neck before the demon has even looked up from its sizzling shoulder.

The demon explodes in a puff of black smoke.

Nate is so surprised he gapes at Brad, sure his eyes look cartoonishly wide. Nate had been so focused on the demon that he hadn’t noticed Brad moving towards the armoire or grabbing the club.

“The demon is dead. Whatever deal you struck with him is off,” Brad says, breathing heavily. 

“How did you - ?” Nate starts to ask.

“Your clubs have iron in them. It’s poison to demons,” Brad explains as he wipes the black ichor of the letter opener on his trousers and puts it back on Nate’s desk. “The poison is the reason I could stab him.”

“No, I mean. How did you know how to kill a demon?” Nate didn’t even know that was possible. 

Brad just shrugs, like whatever just happened was all part of a normal day’s work. “There have been rumors about demons taking advantage of Marines. I’ve done my homework.”

Nate looks down at his hands and realizes they’re shaking.

“You don’t have to tell me what you promised that demon, but I’m fuckin’ glad I was here,” Brad says solemnly. 

Nate knows he’s the luckiest bastard in the whole world. His body is tingling all over from the adrenaline, and it's like he could have anything, do _anything_. He’s free in a way he hadn’t been since that demon first showed up to tempt him. Nate feels nearly dizzy from the elation.

And that’s all thanks to Brad.

“So, about that drink,” Nate fishes. He’s beaming, and he doesn’t even bother hiding it. 

“Right now?” Brad raises an eyebrow in challenge and invitation both. 

“There’s no reason to wait,” Nate says with the confidence of a man who very recently escaped his own destiny. Brad just nods in agreement, his smile bright and genuine and _human_.


End file.
